They had been running for hours, deeper and deeper into the woods. They didn't know where they were but Jane was exhausted her back felt like it was on fire and her skin ached; she was never one to give up so easily but now she had no choice. Her legs buckled and blood ran at the side of her face from where her captors hit her over the head with a steed rod. It was way too dark to make out any of them out but she would remember their voices for as long as she lived and would remember the way their skin felt against hers.
"I need to rest, give me a minute," she said to Roman, very out of breathe.
She sat leaning against the side of a tree, with a glazed, but curious expression of marked unbelief on her face. Between the thumb and index finger of her right hand, she held the severed index finger of her left hand, as if trying to figure out how she could possibly repair and reattach it.
"It's broken, alright," Roman said taking the other side of the tree.
She hadn't seen Roman in nearly six years and out of nowhere he turned up exactly where she was, and helped her out of a very sticky situation. She didn't have the strength to interrogate him so instead, for the time being, she just thanked him. He waved his hand around as if to say "don't mention it" and gave her one of his award winning smiles.
He let his eyes travel her entire body for a minute before a frown took over his face
"I love you but you look like ass,"
A small chuckle escaped her lips which made her wince and grab onto her stomach.
She was definitely bruised there.
Roman was trying very hard not to stare at her nose but he kept finding his eyes had diverted to it. One moment they were obediently on her red rimmed eyes and the next they were rested on the bloody mess that had been a perfectly ordinary nose only hours before; so ordinary in fact that she could not recall what it had looked like.
"Your nose is fucked too,"
Her eyes snapped open and she glared at him before closing it back and settling herself as comfortably she possibly could on a tree.
"Please keep the compliments coming," she said sarcastically.
The banter was still very much alive and well between them.
On each arm there were great purple welts that will only deepen over the coming week. Against her ghostly skin they are grotesque.
She looked as beaten up as she did in her earlier days of training, sparring with guys two heads taller and over twice her mass. At least they didn't go for her face — unlike those pricks.
Purple welts were scattered across her abdomen like a disease. It hurt to breathe and she wondered if some ribs were cracked.
"You'll be okay, kiddo" Roman reassured.
5 months earlier...
Jane rose unsteadily to her feet, it was against "Doctor" Roman's orders to be moving right now but she needed to use the bathroom and she'd have to have both legs broken before she'd ask for assistance with that.
She was startled to see a face glaring back that was more purple than any other colour.
Her head was throbbing and her entire body ached. She felt like she would pass out at any given moment
"It's really something that you never get used to," Roman said as he entered through the creaky door.
She still had nightmares of the cold and slimy fingers crawling up her spine, exploring her body and squeezing her neck with all the strength they had.
Fear. It's so human.
"Get used to people strangling me ? Yeah no thanks," she said mockingly, examining the stubborn purple marks on neck.
Silvers of light peeped through the drawn blinds, casting thin golden stripes across her angelic face.
It felt so good to finally be back around some normalcy, it had been far too long.
If it hadn't been for Roman, her captors might've already killed her and stuffed her body somewhere no one would dare look.
"You cheated... again!" Roman groaned in frustration.
They had been battling against each other in the only game Roman's house had; Mortal Kombat.
"When will you ever admit that I am better and smarter than you will ever be?" I asked innocently, biting back a smirk. Roman always got really competitive but so did I. We had been playing for hours until he finally called it quits.
"Fine. You're better. Whatever," he said reaching over to grab some popcorn. We had been living together ever since he saved me from that awful prison. He had explained why he was there, how he knew where I was and how he came around to helping me. I never say this enough but I'm really thankful for him. Roman is fiercely loyal and very overprotective, as if I needed that.
He always does this; like I'm a desperate little girl who always needs him to protect her. Maybe it's just because he cares about me too much. He likes to act like I don't know how to do anything on my own and he has to protect me from everything.
Why wouldn't he?
He's the one I've grown up with and he will always be my partner.
Roman is only a year older than me. But he always acts like he is my protector, my guardian. Maybe it's because he likes to be the one who always gets to order me around, or control me. But I guess he only does that because he loves me, and he has grown up learning how to protect me all the time.
"What was that?" I asked grinning wildly.
He narrows his eyes at me and nudges my shoulders before getting up and heading over to the kitchen.
"You need anything?" He asked pointing towards the fridge and by anything he really meant "what kinda beer do you want?"
"Nah," I said, shaking my head at him.
It was time for me to get some rest after 12 hours of gaming and getting drunk with Roman who wouldn't take no for answer.
When Jane opened the door to her bedroom, there was something that made her nervous. It could have been a tincture of the wrong aroma, or the temperature being too cold — like a window had been opened in her absence.
She wasn't sure. Her instinct told her to run, call Roman, ask him to come, but she decided she was being silly and walked in regardless. No sooner had she hit the light switch did a golfing iron hit her in the head. She felt the pain and saw the second blow come for her abdomen.
The men have the exits covered, there's nowhere to run. She raises her hands up in surrender and backs away slowly.
"It's been awhile," the tallest out of the two said grinning wildly at her. The voice
Of course, they'd track her.
"It has," she said lowering her hands and taking a step towards them. They were both clad in all black and each wore ski masks over their faces.
"I like this look," the shorter one said reaching to touch her hair. He curled one strand of hair around his finger and tugged on it gently.
The air is suddenly rent by the sound of breaking glass. Other than a gunshot there is nothing that gets my attention sooner or heart accelerating faster.
As always I'm first on my feet, first to be armed, back against the cool plaster of the wall. Breaking glass almost never heralds anything good.
"You okay?" Roman asked, checking the man's pulse to see whether he was dead or alive.
"Check the bedrooms, take her alive," a gruff voice said in the distant.
Suddenly, a crowbar swings in slow motion, even the man swooping behind seems to slow his arc to the next branch.
"Grab her, Ethan!" yelled the tall, blonde man, who appeared to be the leader.
The two minions lodged towards Jane, hitting her across the face with their guns. Roman retrieves a little knife from his back pocket and sticks it into one of the men's neck. He gave Jane a quick glance to ensure that she was okay.
"Fools!" The leader hissed running towards the gun that had fallen during the scuffle.
Then the first blow comes, a single sniper shot.
A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Roman's body. His stomach ached, his arms lost tension and his legs began to weaken.
"Stay strong," he thought as he dropped to the ground. His tongue was soaked in the taste of blood. Bruised and winded, with a leg in agony, he grabbed the foot of the leader and pulled him to the ground. His head was pounding. He brought a fist to the leader's face, snapping his nose into a grotesquerie.
Jane grabbed his gun and shot him straight execution style.
"I'm good, I'm good," Roman said clutching his abdomen.
"It's barely a fresh wound,"
The bullet wound looks nothing like she'd expected. Instead of a neat reddened hole it was oozing with dark congealing blood and the putrid smell was enough to initiate a gag reflex.
If the entry wound was small the exit was a gaping mess. Jane kept her face passive while she panicked on the inside. "Roman, this is no problem. Just hang on, I'll get supplies."
The dark red blood makes its way out of Roman's body. It oozes between the space between of fingers as he covers his wound with a shaky hand. His vision becomes blurrier as red shirt turns darker and all can be seen is the scarlet blood that once flowed in his veins. Each drop of blood slowly takes away the life in him, leaving him pale and weak, yet defying death.
"Stop... hospital," he croaked out with out.
She couldn't patch him up on her own, they didn't have any of the necessary supplies needed and Roman was bleeding out fast.
"Roman.."
"New York," he breaths out before he slipped into a state of unconsciousness. Jane knew she needed to get him to a hospital right now or she'd lose the only person she now had.
New York, here we come...
Present time...
The light of the day had long since ebbed and dwindled to nothing, now as midnight marched steadily toward us the air was cooler and damper than it had been. In the sweet rain washed darkness the sounds of the night became loud in our ears, even the rustling of the leaves and the whisper of the wind was thunderous. I swear that in the absolute blackness of that midnight world I could have heard a beetle in the earth, so acute became my hearing.
Beyond the horizon, the sun illuminated the shimmering haze of pollution. In the far distance, the silhouette of the skyline pierced through the warm glow like a jagged mountain ridge.
Millions of lights caused the dense mass of skyscrapers glitter. People were needle points and cars were blood cells flowing through the veins of the city.
Despite the time, the hustle and bustle never came to a halt. The city's residents were off for a movie or to chill out in a smoky jazz bar downtown.
"Everything seems so different," Jane mentions walking alongside Roman.
He had given her quite a scare. The doctor explained to her that if she hadn't brought in when she did he might've been dead.
He underwent three different surgeries that night but Jane was certain he would pull through — he had to.
"You sound like a typical yorker," he said grinning at her.
They had been residing in New York for almost two months. They stayed indoors during the day but roamed the streets late at nights.
"Wait!" Jane yelled, tugging Roman's arm towards a little café.
By day this cafe is the colour of supermarket oranges, it has that shiny look, and the jazz pours out of the open doors along with the aroma of fresh baked lasagne.
But now that it's almost tomorrow and the light of the day has been replaced by the unrelenting blackness of night, the frontage is as grey as the smooth concrete sidewalk at my feet.
She takes in a deep breath, sucking in the air that carries a hint of dampness and lacks the heavy pollution of the day traffic.
"Isn't it a bit late for sweets?" Roman asked, stopping her in her tracks.
"Says the guy that drinks beer all day?" Jane asked, rolling her eyes playfully at him.
Reluctantly he agreed and allowed himself to swept into the little sugar factory.
In the bakery the air is more delicious than any flavour. Somehow the aroma captures everything good in there: the filter coffee, the various cakes, the danish pastries.
The blend is perfection, but as a mixture of flavours they would be terrible "coffee-cake-pastry."
I don't think so somehow. It's the kind of place I can sit in for hours, the air so perfumed without chemicals.
"You seem to know your way around here," Roman says watching her in amusement.
"Kurt would bring here when I was mad at him. It worked like a charm — I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head slightly.
Roman gave her a sad smile and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Why don't you go home to him?" He asked seriously watching her closely.
"Let's just get something to eat," she said quietly, refusing to meet Roman's intense gaze. She had explained everything to him after one too many drinks.
For the first time in almost an entire year, she let herself feel; she cried herself dry while Roman just sat there comforting her quietly. It was the first time he had ever seen her so raw; so exposed.
She was always the strong kid, always the one who drew for her weapon first. She was always prepared.
She was a very good fighter but also a very good actress in that entire time they lived together she didn't mention Kurt — not even once — not until they'd gotten way too drunk and she released everything that she was feeling into the open.
The bakery was a galley of a shop. So much of the space had been taken up by the ovens and the mouthwatering displays that the customers were left to squeeze in and out.
From the cracking chess board tile Jane could only imagine the store to be older than herself, though the sign above the display window was freshly painted in black and white.
The cakes beckoned her in and the aroma of fresh baked cookies and bread took her by the hand and led further inside.
After a few minutes, they squeezed themselves past the anxious buyers and sat at the table closet to the window.
Jane picked up a piece of bread and gazed out into the darkness her eyes landed on a young couple walking hand in hand, stealing a kiss or two every now and then.
Her mind quickly found the memory of her and Kurt's first night here.
She had almost gotten her head blown off in the field and he was livid. She argued that she wasn't a child and she was fully capable of taking care of herself.
"Didn't your father ever teach you to keep your guard up?" He asked rising his voice. At that point he was frustrated and had been too tired to argue with her.
His statement instantly silenced her though and she stared at him with wide eyes.
"I didn't have a father," she choked out, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears.
He instantly regretted it and spent all night trying to make it up to her.
"Hey?" Roman said gently squeezing her hand in his.
She offered him a tight smile and quietly ate her soft pastries, savoring the sweet taste.
Roman greedily scarfed down the bread and cookies and went up to order some more.
After eating they remained seated and just stared out of the window and chatted lightly.
"I just feel empty, like a part of me is gone and I need to get it back. I'm tired and can't focus," Jane said after sometime.
Roman gave her a sympathetic smile and assured her that at the right time she would find whatever she was looking for.
The world is as silent as if it ended in the night. The sun is still resolutely below the horizon and the street is as dark as some old-school black and white movie. As I close my eyes I feel the heady pull of my dreams, beckoning me back to play.
I turn begrudgingly to the light switch and flick it, immediately the room is bathed in that unnatural electric glow.
I should do something about that, get some fancy soft glow bulb, or perhaps just a bedside lamp. But the cool blue strip light is calming in a very weird way.
Before the day has started for the masses I am already in my kitchen, fully dressed and ready to go.
Outside it is as black as night, only by the clock can I tell the difference between the time to sleep and the time to rise.
I quickly ate some toast and carried it down with some orange juice. I'm so healthy.
Usually I worked out and did whatever training I needed to do in the house but it was really beautiful outside and I almost forgot what it felt like to be outdoors during the day.
I left Roman, also known as Mister worrisome, a note notifying him off my whereabouts and stepped outside.
I let the moment sink in. It soothed he from the core right out to where the nascent rays touched my skin.
This meant a new beginning was possible and possibilities meant hope... or something like that.
Running taught me a bit about life; every little thing is broken down into one step at a time.
That's as easy and as hard as every task is. If you look ahead at how far the run is, maybe you'll never begin. If you just start running there's a great chance you'll finish.
Over the past year I've learned not to overthink everything. Just run.
I had been too lost in circling the block that I didn't even see the man approaching me, I didn't see when he stopped in his tracks and pulled out his phone.
I didn't see anything except the 'finish line', I needed to reach.
I didn't see him until it was far too late, not until I'd already knocked him off balance and caused both of us to go crashing to the ground.
"I am so sorry," I said picking myself off of the ground.
When I finally meet his gaze I nearly turn around and leave. He just stared at me open mouthed.
His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he didn't know what to say to me.
He pushed his hands into his pockets, suddenly unsure of where to put them. Shyness wasn't usually his gig, this was new.
I could feel my heart beat —every single pound in my chest. Not through my ears, that was occupied by his steady breathing.
But I couldn't just stand there. I had to say something —do something but I couldn't.
We stood there in silence for about two minutes before I finally broke the silence.
"Kurt"
A/N; They finally meet!
And yes, I've seen some of your reviews asking about the real reason why she left that will be revealed in the future chapters to come through her flashbacks.
And no, this isn't the last of their meeting as tempting as the thought might be they have to talk about everything that happened in the year like adults... to an extent.
Thank you to all that have been reading and enjoying this story so far, I'm really grateful for you wonderful people.
Please let me know what you think about this chapter your reviews really help.